Jethro packs a full tummy

See, when I travel, I like to sample local food joints. Drives me crazy to eat in a chain restaurant when I’m out of town; even the good ones. The food at Chili’s, for example, tastes the same in San Antonio as it does in Peoria, and I have to ask: What’s the point of eating Tex-Mex at a national chain when you’re in the heart of Tex-Mex country? Go to a hometown joint and get the real thing.

“Man V. Food” specializes in local eateries. In the most recent season, host Adam Richman visited Des Moines, where he went to Jethro’s BBQ, a relatively new place just a short walk off the Drake University campus. There, Adam took on the “Adam Emmenecker Challenge,” which we’ll get to in a minute. The place looked like fun, and it sounded like the food was good. So today, I went there for lunch. (I had intended to go after filing my column on the Drake-Bradley game Friday night, but the kitchen closed at 11, which was about the time I was proof-reading what I had written.)

Jethro’s, which has 15 big-screen TVs and 15 satellites feeding them, is a sports fan/BBQ lover’s paradise. It was almost jammed when I arrived at 11:35 a.m. I chose the bar, rather than waiting 20 minutes to hog a regular table. First thing I had to do when handed the menu was to read it. According to the cover story, Jethro came from southern California, where he lived in the Hills of Beverly, but a few years ago he heard about a championship attitude building on the Drake campus, so Jethro headed back east. His arrival dovetailed with the Drake Bulldogs winning the Missouri Valley basketball championship in 2008. The unlikely star of that team was a former walk-on guard named Adam Emmenecker. According to the menu, his favorite sandwich was the one that the restaurant named for him.

I find this hard to believe, because the sandwich is bigger than Emmenecker. Here is a picture. Whatever, a challenge was developed. If you can eat the Emmenecker — that’s five pounds of food, including a plateful of waffle fries that surround the foot-tall pile of meat, cheese, sauces, buns and garnish — in 15 minutes, right down to the last bite, you win. That means you get the $19 meal for free, a T-shirt, and your picture on the Wall of Fame.

FYI, I could not find a Wall of Fame. I did find the Wall of Shame, appropriately located in a narrow hallway leading to the restrooms, which is probably where a good number of the shamed wound up. There are 122 pictures on that wall, including Richman’s. Yes, the hero of “Man V. Food” lost; had a full pound of grub still on his plate when the clock expired. Every picture has a red “DNF” stamped on it.

I paged through the menu. I mulled the Emmenecker. There was no way I was going to try the challenge. I could not possibly get that down in 15 minutes. But I was tempted to try it at my own leisure. Alas, I chickened out. Mostly, I didn’t want to spend the next 24 hours rolling around on a hotel bed, trying to figure out whether I was in agony or ecstasy but unable to walk in any case. I turned the pages. I was about to order a basic pulled-pork sandwich with side orders, when a voice echoed in my head:

“Go big or go home!”

Darn right. What’s the point of living life without risk, without adventure? The Emmenecker wasn’t going to be my choice, although part of me thought I could do it. After all, I had handled the Norm Burger at the Bull and Finch Pub (inspiration for the longtime TV sitcom “Cheers”), on Beacon Hill in Boston. It was of similar size. But I was a younger man then. Right above the Emmenecker on the menu, however, was “The Jethro.” Hmmmm. According to the menu, The Jethro “isn’t for everyone. It’s porktastic. It’s ginormous.” The Jethro is a giant tenderloin, topped with Carolina-style pulled pork, house-smoked pit ham and a double order of thick slab bacon. It comes with your choice of side order and a bunch of pickles and onions and tomatoes for your added enjoyment, if you so desire. Then I noticed the tease at the end of the item: “… go for it. But remember, we warned you.” Hmmmm.

“How big is The Jethro?” I asked the barmaid.

“It’s good size,” she said.

“How good size?” I asked.

“You’re not gonna go hungry,” she said.

I so desired. I so ordered, with a side of potato salad.

Service was quick. About five minutes after I ordered, the barmaid put a huge plate in front of me. I spent the next five minutes trying to figure out how to attack. The sandwich was too big for me to adequately hold the bun, since the tenderloin stretched out several inches past the bun on all sides, as if it were a wheel on a monster truck. The pork and ham oozed along the tenderloin. I spun the plate to take a look from every angle. Then I grabbed a fork and knife and began sawing at the edges.

That’s how I ate all of the sandwich that reached beyond the edges of the bun: cut it up, smothered it in Jethro’s Hot BBQ Sauce, and let it melt in my mouth. By the time I reached the bun, I felt as if I had eaten a full meal. But I still had a six-inch pile of sandwich to eat. So I ate it. Everything except the onions. (I am not a fan of raw onion slices. Cooked, fried, battered, sauteed onions — yes. But not cold, sliced rings.) I pushed the plate across the bar.

“So,” the barmaid said, “still hungry?”

No, I burped. (I didn’t burp at her, but I swallowed a burp before answering.) “But I’m satisfied. That was very good.”

Author: Kirk Wessler

Kirk Wessler is executive sports editor/columnist and has worked at the Journal Star since 1987. A graduate of Bradley University, he previously worked at the Columbia (Mo.) Daily Tribune and Dallas Times-Herald. Wessler's work has won numerous awards from Associated Press Sports Editors, U.S. Basketball Writers Association, Illinois Press Association and Illinois Associated Press. He is former president of the USBWA. Follow him on Twitter @KirkWessler.
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